


And Time Yet

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Prufrock Verse [1]
Category: CrissColfer - Fandom, Glee RPF
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prufrock verse, RPF, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There will be time after Glee, if they dare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Time Yet

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series of drabbles and longer future fics set in a verse.

It’s far too hot for the clothes they’re wearing and Chris is grateful when a break is called.  They’ve got hours to go, but he already feels sticky and uncomfortable.  Three years on the job and counting and he  _still_  hasn’t found a way to blackmail his way into clothes with a little more airflow and a little less constriction.  Darren nudges his arm with his elbow and Chris nods vaguely.  He doesn’t need Darren to ask him if he wants to go back and hide out in the trailer, he just  _knows_. 

Darren’s got his heavy coat off and thrown onto a chair as soon as the door closes behind them and he kicks his shoes off as he almost falls onto the couch.  Chris collapses down on the couch next to him, close enough that their shoulders and thighs press together.  He tips his head back against the cushions and sighs.  He should put his foot up and get some ice on his ankle again, but he can’t even find the energy to dig the remote control out from where it’s wedged into the small of his back.  They’ve barely begun rehearsing for the night and he’s already tired.  Maybe not taking more time off during the break wasn’t such a good idea after all.  Maybe he should have given himself at least a few days after the book tour just to sleep and reenergize and remind his cat that he’s the actual owner of that damn bed.

“I’ve got something for you,” Darren says, after they’ve been sitting in comfortable, companionable silence for a few moments.  Chris wants to tip his head onto Darren’s shoulder, but he can’t seem to move that far.

“Do you?”  Chris hopes it’s food, but given that the trailer smells of nothing but hair product and the lingering traces of their shared cologne, he’s doubtful. 

“Yup.”  Darren digs his phone out of his pocket.  One day that damn thing is going to go off during filming.  “You’re gonna fucking love this shit.”

Chris rolls his head to look over at Darren.  His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting down on his lip as he thumbs through screens on his phone.  This close, Chris can see the stubble that’s already shadowing Darren’s cheek and upper lip; he’ll have to shave before filming starts again.  Chris hopes Darren will let him do it for him.

Chris hasn’t seen Darren for a few days – since he left LA for Chicago to be with his family – and he’s searching Darren’s face for any sign that Darren might not be doing as well as he’s trying to play at.  Chris knows how hard it is for Darren every time he has to leave his friends behind again.  He’s looking for a tell-tale tightness in his jaw or a smudge of darkness under his eyes that isn’t quite hidden by makeup.

Darren had been so busy with his friends and the show over the weekend that Chris hadn’t gotten more than a dozen texts from him and a single hurried phone call late Friday night, which was repeatedly interrupted by Joey yelling in the background that Chris should get his ass on a plane and get on over there too.

He’d wanted to.  He wishes he could have done just that.  But there was no way, none at all.  There are so many things that Chris gets to do – things he’d never, ever imagined for his life.  Books deals.  Television shows.  Movies.  It’s all insane and surreal and  _wonderful_.  But every new thing, every new experience and opportunity he’s allowed means another thing he’s not.  And sometimes, when he’s alone at night and Darren is once more thousands of miles and several time zones away, he questions if the trade-off is worth it.

“Ok, here, look what I got for you.”  Darren angles the phone towards him.  He’s smiling, just the corners of his mouth twitching up, but his eyes are soft, golden in the dim lighting of the trailer, and Chris wants to brush his thumb along Darren’s cheekbone.

“If this is another video of you pantsing Joey…” Chris warns.  Twice was more than enough.

Darren rolls his eyes and shakes the phone teasingly at Chris until Chris curves into him further, rests his cheek on Darren’s shoulder, and nods that he’s ready.  Darren presses  _play_  and everything is black for a moment until the camera pans up.

Chris’ breath catches and his chest feels tight.  The footage is shaky and grainy, and a curtain keeps cutting off half of the screen, but Chris watches, his mouth hanging open, as a couple of the Starkids dance and sing their way through a number that Chris doesn’t recognize, but can’t wait to memorize.  He can see Joey in Ron’s red wig, and he’s pretty sure Meredith is out there as Hermione.  At the end of the video, the camera swings around until the screen is filled with Darren’s face; he grins and waves and the screen goes dark.

Somehow, despite how batshit crazy his schedule was for those couple of days, how frantic and insane, Darren managed to film some of the show for him.  Just for him.

Darren has never made fun of him for his lasting affection for the Harry Potter musicals, and Chris appreciates him more than he can say for that.  It would have been so easy for Darren to immediately pigeonhole him as just another fan who knows too many of the lines and owns too much memorabilia.  (For his part, however, much of what he has now has been acquired through Darren, so it’s not like he went out and bought the Starship DVD.  And it’s not like he could give back the bracelet Joey slapped on him one night.) 

“I know you wanted to be there,” Darren says, voice pitched low, when the footage ends.  There’s only a few minutes, and it was almost impossible to catch all the dialogue, but it’s more than enough.  “It’s the best I could do.”

Chris thinks about it sometimes.  He could still write his books and his scripts and be a part of Starkid at the same time.  He doesn’t need to act or sing – they’ve got more than enough talent to fill those roles – but he can see himself working on the scripts, the sets, and maybe even filling in on stage when they need him.  Chris can see himself flying back and forth between Chicago and LA, staying busy, always working.  It might be difficult, and as much as they like him as an outlier, he’s not sure how the rest of the group would take to him as a full-time member.  He’s got Joey on his side though.

And he’d have Darren.  He would have him more than he does now. There would be complications, of course.  People would talk and there’d be no way to avoid the conversations.  But would it be worth it, after all?

“When this whole fucking  _thing_  is over,” Darren says suddenly.  Chris watches as his fingers clench and unclench around the phone until he tosses it aside.  “This Glee thing, you know there’s a place for you, with us, if you wanted.”

 _There’s a place for you with me_ , is what Chris knows he’s saying.

Darren places his hand on his thigh, palm up.  Chris looks at it for a moment before he slides his hand on top and tangles their fingers together.

It won’t always be like this.  One day it will be different, and there’s time yet for those other things.  But until it is, Chris will take what he can get, even if sometimes that’s just a few minutes of grainy, shaky footage of a hastily put together musical.  And sometimes that’s enough.


End file.
